


Skipping Planet (With Idiots)

by twinklesnow (lipgloss)



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Aftermath, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Asexual Character, Attempt at Humor, Begrudged Companions To Genuine Friendship, Everyone Has Issues, Gen, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Not A Fix-It, Outer Space, Post-Avengers: Infinity War Part 1 (Movie)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-19
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-06-13 05:13:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,013
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15357024
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lipgloss/pseuds/twinklesnow
Summary: Loki is a man with a mission by the Norns, Tony allies himself with universally distinguished villains to get back to Earth and Nebula has plans for revenge. But, first, they need to get off Titan.





	1. One

**Author's Note:**

> This will be an equally lighthearted and serious approach on the angsty mess of Infinity War aftermath. I took full liberty with tweaking any canon details to fit the flow of the story. Enjoy!
> 
> Warning!!  
> A slight gory details in describing Loki's injury.

It wasn’t Ragnarok but still it was the end of all that they knew, or that were the words laced into tormented moans by those robbed off their existence after the snap lose its echo and took half of the universe along to the damning door of Hel. There were familiar faces among the crowd – the whole of Asgard was already at the other side of the door for Norn’s sake – and Loki never knew a heart that broke after they stopped beating until it was his.

Loki flickered, in and out, an irregular pulsation in the fabric of reality. He knew fully well he wasn’t even half there right where he was standing. All the broken bits and pieces of him; his conscience, his seidr, and even his lies, scattered across like seedlings in the pitch-black density between the worlds.

 _No_ , he cried stiffly, _it hadn’t been enough before._

“What’s happening, Heimdall?” Loki croaked out. An outstretched hand—

_No more resurrection!_

His hand snapped back, and he curled his fingers against his throbbing temple. The pillars lining Hel’s hallway trembled. Grating noise grinding in Loki’s ears and shower of nebulous sparks rained around him. The work of nature struggling to negate Thanos’ intent woven by power and space, and Loki stuck in between doubled over into himself. His silhouette distorted further until he was a little bit more than leather green and gold. Heimdall was close enough for Loki to make out his moving lips.

“I see you far away again, Loki.” Heimdall had mouthed. That cursed pseudo father-figure of his, Loki cussed a colourful streak. As if he couldn’t be any less cryptic.

All of a sudden, bone-chilling breeze swept through the hallway. There was a ball of light collapsing into itself, turning dense in the middle of the room until a hollow form materialise. From the collapsing light, Hela stepped forward and a hushed silence befallen the restless souls crowding. She did a once over through the crowd and met Loki’s gaze with these wilful eyes and musing smirk. Loki sighed and approached her.

“Today’s a party, I see.” If Hela was all smoky appeal and infallible strength back in Midgard when they first met, this time in her domain she was a sight to behold. She was a queen through and through. There was no mistaking her status in the land of the dead.

“Sister,” he greeted, keeping a good few steps from her in caution, but still fairly cordial.

“They don’t belong here. All of them,” she growled and snapped back to Loki. “And you’re being called.”

Loki shook his head vehemently. “No, no, no. I’ve done my fair share and then, some.” He had went against the very essence that made him who he is, a god of mischief; he had given his life for Thor’s, _why hadn’t that been enough?_

“You owed the Norn, Loki.”

“Do I? I held no responsibility for Thanos’ desire to wipe half of the universe in his mission, no one does but that vile monster himself, and the agreement fell out the moment I died.”

Hela clicked her tongue. “But, you didn’t truly die now do you?”

Loki bristled and glared at the queen of the dead, who in return humoured him with a knowing look.

“Now, now, brother. Don’t pout. The Norn are desperate enough to resort for you when they know I can do a much cleaner job. Especially with your plans’ tendency to blow up in your face.”

If anything, Loki was sure she had spoken with the Norn when now she seemed to be aware of him more than allowed by the brief talk they had in their meeting. He supposed there’s no way he could weasel his way out of the Norn’s troublesome request. Giving in with a sigh, he bows at her sardonically, “Well, sister, I’m sure they’re worried you’ll blow a couple planet to smithereens instead for laughs.”

“Excuse me. Who blew up Asgard again?”

“That’s Thor.” Loki replied in a heartbeat.

Hela threw her head back and barked a harsh laugh. She stalked him down with the remnant of that ominous laughter trailing behind her and Loki flinched back when she reached for his face. Her fingers gripped him frozen by the chin.

“I can only keep them here for a few months before they all cease to exist. Go finish what you need to do and there’ll be a place for you here.” Hela gave Loki a push, one moment he was standing and the next he was falling with the millions pleading echoes. “Fare you well, brother.”

Loki fell, and fell.

Resurrection wasn’t singing angels and holy light. It was a mess of energy forming and breaking in a speed that ached. Loki hoped he won’t break too much bones when he meets the ground or any equivalent surface.

 

\--

 

It would be presumptuous of him to think he would be caught this time around, almost naive even. But that didn’t stop Loki from wishing he was spared from having his internal rearranged. His eyes fluttered close as wind whipped against his back, rippling his capes on his sides as he fell through Hel. The living world opened to him like gaping wound and swallowed him whole, yet again.

He braced for impact.

Loki slammed onto the rocky ground turning a two-meter radius around him into a massive crater. He cracked the back of his skull and the momentum carried through his body and broke whatever inside left intact at the first touch.

When the dust settled around him Loki found his voice again, whining a low groan. Loki stayed in the crater and blinked at the orangish, fractured sky. He tried not to think what had happened here. A whole chunk of time was wasted, but Loki believed if the Norns were complaining at all they could have made the landing a whole lot smoother.

Loki wasn’t sure if it’s day or night – the sky in this part of the universe seemed to have died and stayed its orange coloration – when he picked up the drag of footsteps. There were a pair of them, just down south-west and already a good deal near him. His body was still knitting itself back together and if it was an attack he absolutely had no way to fight back.

“Loki?” A metallic, distinctively woman’s voice greeted him. The newcomer’s identity remained a mystery for a short moment. The angle Loki was sprawled in the caved in ground only gave him a limited view of the sky. He twitched with nerve; people who knew Loki recently weren’t exactly good news for him.

Blue fingers curled at the edge and a familiar Luphomoid’s face popped into Loki’s view.  

“Nebula,” Loki grunted out in a relieved sigh. Better an enemy - dubious associate? Loki wasn't sure - he knew than ones he not. 

Another voice picked up from behind her and Loki tensed when it was a familiar one as well. “What do you mean Loki? Hey, Robocop, I’m talking to you!”

Nebula obviously didn’t let the demanding tone slide. She retreated from the crater and sparred words with her companion. Nebula lost, that wasn’t surprising, though not without a few biting remarks on her sides. She’s better with her trusted batons than a knife on her tongue, that was Loki’s game, but by that time Loki had connected enough dots to draw the picture altogether.

Two person, on foot and slightly injured; one was confirmed Nebula, and her companion was none other than Tony Stark himself. It was curious how the human had gotten here but, Loki fell from Hel and here he was. He assumed there would be an explanation as crazy as his.

“Alright so, what he’s doing here?” Stark asked once the necessary, terse silence after their argument grown to pass.

“Oh, I haven’t gotten around to ask him that between just finding him and you being a child.” Loki could hear the eyeroll and he would have laughed if his stomach wasn’t threatening to burst open at the slightest aggression.

“I’m not getting close to that crazy.”

“I couldn’t stress enough for you to stay away,” she snarked.

That was the last straw and Loki cackled out loud, effectively stopping another fight from brewing just outside the crater he had made. The pressure on his stomach had him coughing out blood a second after.

Nebula climbed in alone and slid down slowly to Loki’s side. She pursed her lips and Loki let her eyes swept a once-over through his condition without flinching away. He wanted to, but it isn’t wise to rouse more suspicion than what was natural for the Luphomoid.

“Can you move?”

Loki shook his head in two jerky motion. His newly grown joints are a little stiff. “Don’t think it’s good idea.” He took a moment and heaved, blood bubbling in his lungs. “Still healing.”

“Bad weather’s coming. Best if you’re not out in the open, Stark can carry you to the shelter.”

“Doubt he’s alright with that.”

“He can make better use of his armour than a soon-to-be metal coffin.” Nebula disregarded his protests and pulled herself out swiftly.

There was another round of fight, words going back and forth until Nebula set her foot down. Loki knew he was useful. His knowledge of universe, his magic and the sturdier physique goes a long way but having to hear if he was worth saving or not was souring him. It did bring back unsavoury recollection of Odin’s voice, shouting the truth regarding Loki’s birth right.

An exasperated shout and then, Stark was down in the crated in his armour – a little different than what Loki remembered – and he was less than graceful with jostling Loki’s inside when he carried him out. Loki gritted his teeth and bear through. He couldn’t gauge Stark’s emotion with the rigid mask covering his face, but he took a guess that Stark hated it when Loki slipped from his grip five more times before Stark snapped.

“Watch it, prancer.”

Loki scoffed. “Not my fault your limb is as weak as a fawn.”

“I’ll drop you,” Stark groused, nudging Loki up slightly and fixing his grip. He wasn’t struggling with Loki’s weight and Loki knew that, he had witnessed Stark’s armor in the battlefield. It was his injury but Loki wasn’t going to let an opportunity to grate someone passed him by.

“You’re doing a great job at that already.”

“He will drop you in actuality, Loki.” Nebula spoke up and Loki eyed her subtly. The last time he saw her, she wasn't a creature of benevolence. The changes were subtle but, it was there and Loki wasn't benevolent either with his curiosity.

“That will be bad for his heroic image though,” he choked out with a grin.

That struck a nerve. Stark stiffened, and his steps faltered. “I won’t hesitate to leave you to the storm and the next time Nebula will find a corpse instead.”

Loki took his chances anyway. “It will be a waste for Hel to spit me out only to be back in less than a day.”

Nebula had the smallest quirk on her lips, but she fell into step silently next to Stark as they tracked through the ruins for their shelter. Stark rough handling made his body flared with a fresh wave of torment but, the storm afterward had him felt a little better he braved through the pain.

 

\--


	2. Two

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's a couple interrogations, threats of bodily harm and a one bed cliche. Loki thinks Tony hates his guts, rightfully so, and Nebula is amused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> After scrapping two different version of this update it's finally here, a lot of rinse and repeat goes in finishing this one. Enjoy!
> 
> Warning!!  
> A poor handling of anxiety attack by an onlooker.

Shortly after the odd storm had let down to a slow trickle, Loki regained a portion of his mobility in his limbs. The crick in his neck had soothed away and he wasn’t a glob of mess inside anymore – he still didn’t move an inch from the spot that Stark had deposited in the first place.

The shelter was cramped; quaint but functional, to put it nicely. There was barely enough room for three people and a whole other storm, culminating inside, to navigate through the space comfortably. Stark stuck to one corner, Nebula right across him on another corner and Loki was laying down perfectly in their scrutiny on a pile of sacks arranged into the design of a makeshift bed.

It was taxing to stay still for a long period. Loki twitched involuntarily, and he felt the instance their gaze narrowed on him. Astonishingly, it was Nebula who sniffed out his pretense.

“Stop playing dead, Loki.”

“That isn’t my intention,” Loki hummed out.

Nebula cocked Loki with a look and he pointedly sat up. If Loki was to be frank, he had expected to feel the brunt of Stark’s angry jargon first, but Stark was keen on pretending he wasn’t listening in on them. He simply skirted around their conversation, brooding and hovering at the table piled with stripped metals and exposed wiring. Loki wasn’t disappointed. He caught the clever glint in Stark’s eyes when the latter sat down with his armor folding in towards the triangular beacon on his chest.

“I only need a moment to take it all in,” Loki evaded.

They were circling him like predators – unitedly and equally separate – only that there was no prey and still each of them wanted a bigger piece for their own. But, the power struggle could only serve Loki for so long in the situation and he didn’t feel like getting mauled.

“I’m sure you have questions.” Loki stretched out languidly and a column of his spine that grew a little out to the left popped back into alignment. Stark near looked disgusted at the sound and Loki’s satisfaction swelled.

“How did you get here?” Nebula asked, unaffected.

“The Norn willed me too,” he replied, giving away little and leaving space for more. Questions, that is.

“What are you doing here?”

“Not much really. Sightseeing?”

“Now you’re being difficult on purpose.” Nebula flicked a sharp blade under Loki’s jaw. “If you prefer me to claw the answers out of you, I will gladly do so.”

Loki dared her, canine bared into a manic smile. He tipped his head and leaned towards her. The blade pricked his skin – artificial cut, and Loki shrugged it off – as they eyed each other but Nebula didn’t bother to budge.

“How did you get here? What are you doing here?”

“How do I know I can trust you?” Loki rallied back. Last he saw Nebula, her mercy toward his person aside, she was still hellbent with serving Thanos and proving her worth to him.

"I’m not planning you any harm.”

“That’s oddly specific.” Loki cocked his brow. Her statement did fell a little short considering her threat of bodily harm just a moment ago. “Whose are you planning for, then?”

“Someone that isn’t you.”

Loki snorted, and his hand flew to rest on his stomach out of self-preservation. “Now who’s being difficult?”

Nebula opened her mouth with a retort but was quickly cut off by Stark. “Oh god, you two are aggravating,” he exasperated. The metal in his hand whirred as he slides his finger between the seam and ripped the machination open. Red sparks bloomed from Stark’s hand and rained down his feet.

“It’s in the context. God of mischief and as such,” Loki scoffed back. There was a slight bitterness tucked between the lines but by the look of it, no one was parsing too hard into his words and his sentiment simply flew by them. He hoped the storm devoured it into nothingness.

“Do you have food perhaps? I’m famished,” he blurted instead and shuffled to the edge of the stacked sacks. His foot touched the ground and a sharp jolt of pain had him wincing.

Nebula called him names under her breath and left the room – whether she had enough of Loki’s antic or she was fetching him something, Loki wasn’t sure. Assuming it was the former, Loki entertained the notion of scouring around for nourishment himself.

The appeal was lost immediately. Instead he tossed his attention around the room towards anything other than his clawing hunger. The space monopolized by Stark was lively and the rhythm of a scholar at work brought Loki minutely to another time, around the early centuries of his memory.

Loki threw his head back and easily managed to hide away the small smile the memory brought him. He stretched his legs and crossed them at his ankles. Although he didn’t remember the Scholar Room enough to do justice to a favorite piece of his life, nevertheless it came close enough if he closed his eyes.

“How do you fit in with Thanos?” Stark gritted out with a writing contraption between his teeth. Loki noticed his soothing rhythm had gone manic. That wasn’t good.

Loki opened his eyes. “Whatever you meant, Stark?”

“Are you with him?”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Nebula to have this talk? I hate having to repeat myself.”

“Stop that,” Stark spitted out and there was the anger Loki had waited for.

“Stop what?” Loki uncrossed his legs and his face shifted, calculating.

“Goddamnit, Loki!” He slammed his hand down. The few bits of machination, positioned rather precariously atop Stark’s mess, rolled off from the table at the impact. It clattered on the floor precariously. “Stop answering questions with more question. Are you with Thanos?”

“And if I am?”

“Stop that! Stop it! Just answer me. Are you with him? Did he kill everyone? Did he kill Pepper? Rhodey? He killed Parker. I told Parker he shouldn’t stay in the ship, it’s my fault the boy died.”

“Breathe. You need to breathe, Stark.”

“No! I mean, yes, I need to breathe. That’s stupid. Of course, I do, and I need answers too so just answer me. I won’t hesitate to shoot your face off.” Stark lifted his hand and red metal clicked into place around his palm, a blueish circle whirring alive and lit up in Loki’s face.

“I have no answer, or at least none that you wish to know of me. I don’t know if he killed those that matters to you, Norn knew he did mine. Now would you please breathe?”

“Trying.”

“Try harder.”

“Fuck you,” Stark gulped. His hand dropped to his side.

“You can’t afford me,” Loki brushed the insult off him like water against his back.

He slipped off the bed and tentatively inched toward Stark. The proud man was resting his head in his folded arm, breathing hard against the table and not the tiniest bit less prideful than when he had taken off his armor and proceeded to threaten Loki.

“Don’t touch me!”

“I’m not. No one’s touching you,” Loki replied hotly, and he squatted down next to Stark’s work bench. Stark was beginning to choke, and Loki hadn’t the slightest clue what to do. _Should he leave the man on his own?_ There were cases of Asgard’s warriors with battle hysteria, but Loki was never the go-to person for comfort; _Ergi_ , as he is.

“What do you need, Stark? Do you need to go somewhere, uhm, safe?” Loki hesitated.

The last part almost fell flat into something alike to concern to a stranger’s ears. It wasn’t. Loki could assure that he was simply way out of his depth. Stark shook his head violently, and Loki froze with dead ends.

“I see you two got chummier while I was out.” Nebula appeared with a drawstring pouch and Loki exhaled his relief rather soundly.

“Will he be well?”

“I don’t know. He doesn’t let me come close when he got like this.” Nebula put down the pouch on the bed and climbed up. She lean against the wall and straighten his legs forward on the bed, nodding once to the space beside her. Loki detached himself from Stark’s condition and sat himself next to her.

“Here.” She plopped the pouch onto Loki’s lap. The pouch loosened, and it spilled open. There were blue, metallic sachets inside and Loki raised his brows. She picked up a sachet and brought it to her mouth. “Careful with your bite. Stark said it tastes like shit.”

“Eloquent.”

Loki imitated Nebula and opened the sachet with his teeth. The sachet’s content threatened to spill over and Loki quickly sucked it into his mouth – he retched on the double. It had the distasteful consistency of overcooked gruel and tasted foul throughout the palette of his mouth.

“These are probably the Titan’s emergency ration. Stark found it. I think it had gone bad for some time,” she shrugged. _There’s nothing else to eat,_ went without saying. Loki murmured his gratitude and massaged the sachet’s content up to its opening. He took another mouthful and retched again, his stomach threatening to spill out from his mouth.

“You get used to it halfway through,” Nebula said, monotonous but pitying enough.

“Can’t hardly wait.”

 

\--

 

Soon, Stark finally pulled himself from whatever deep end he had went. Loki assumed it was already night – it’s hard to track time when the sky didn’t change – Nebula had tried to pry some answer while they lounged on the bed however, Loki was insistent on not having to repeat himself. She noticed Stark's change first and dug into the pouch for a sachet. She tossed it to him and he caught it in his fumbling hands.

Stark dragged his feet towards the bed as he ripped the sachet open. He blew the torn strip from between his mouth to his left, receiving a glare from Nebula that he ignored. He quickly suckled on the sachet, not impeded by the taste at all.

Maybe there is a getting used to the taste after all, Loki mused.

“Make space, Rudolf. I’m taking the side.”

Loki frowned but scooted closer to Nebula, and Stark fell forward on his stomach with a sigh. It was uncomfortable for Loki. He was stuck so close to people he couldn’t even trust a mile away and his condition was downright abysmal.

“I’m surprised you don’t mind the company and the cramped bed,” Loki hummed out. He made himself comfortable against the wall and pushed on, watching how far Stark would let him go. “I’ve read your files, Stark. A multi-millionaire’s only son and an esteemed billionaire. One would assume you have trouble sharing especially with someone who attempted to invade your planet and a lovely woman who had a hand in almost destroying another planet.”

Loki turned towards Nebula and quickly added, “No offense to you, dear. The stories I’ve heard, it was a lovely job although it’s sad that the plan didn’t come through at the end.”

“Ronan was crazy. He was never going to prosper in success anyway.” Nebula get comfortable as well, sliding down onto the bed. She wasn’t as wary of Stark as Loki did, but she already had a day or two with the other man to smooth out her suspicion. Loki could only imagine how explosive the adjusting period was to them. That reminded him that he had questions about them as well - tomorrow, perhaps.

“That’s harsh. Don’t we all have big dreams like ruling a whole planet once. Except, of course, our brave hero it seems.”

“You’re fucking annoying, Loki. Thor did say you’re the annoying sibling. What was I thinking, agreeing to take you in. This is your fault, Nebula.” Stark mouthed against the scratchy bed surface, his face was pressed and that garbled his words.

“Thank you,” he grinned, and Nebula sported one too albeit hidden behind her curled arms.

“I’m not complimenting you, you dick. You and Nebula are a crazy piece of shit. But there’s only one bed to sleep in, I tried the floor and it didn’t agree with all this billionaire extraordinaire. Also, I can take you two in a fight, so you can shut it.”

“Your insult need a lot of working if that’s the best you can put out.”

Stark raised his head slightly, “You know what? I’m going to sleep so I don’t have to see your ugly muck anymore.”

He fell back onto the bed and squeezed his eyes shut, tuning out Loki's presence as well, he suspected. The man was going to give himself a migraine in the morning with the strain he put on. There was a silence before Nebula broke it suddenly, "Loki."

“Yes, dear.” Loki was laying on his back now and he wrapped his arm around himself. He had confidence he wasn’t going to wake up with a knife behind his back but his bed-mates surely wouldn’t appreciate him rolling around and flattening them.

“You still owe me answers. Don’t think I forget that.”

“Of course, my dear.”

“You owe me too!” Stark piped up.

“Oh, Stark,” Loki cooed. “I thought you were going to sleep. Can’t stay away from my fine looks, can you?”

“Yeah, yeah, Adonis. Whatever. Fuck you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Next update will be in around two weeks due to final exams. Comments and kudos will be much appreciated!


	3. Three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Loki and Nebula, and where they fit in the grand scheme of everything.

Loki nursed a spark of his _Seidr_  in his left hand and scoured through the cabinet for water with the glow of his _Seidr_ , lighting his way through his search. There was no water source in the room, broken old piping and abandoned plumbing system. He checked first thing after he woke up from his night terror and wouldn’t stake his neck attempting to have either Nebula or Stark join him in the land of the living. He was half an hour in - if the Titan had half a mind to keep a food stash for apocalypse, surely, they have water reserved somewhere - when the spark in his palm flickered and crumbled pathetically into iridescent fragments.

“Come on. Be a dear and work with me.” Loki twirled his index fingers and the fragments followed, curling around the finger, and fed the magic back into him, inhaling through his mouth. He couldn’t afford to waste a sliver of  _ _Seidr__  in this environment.

His __Seidr__  was acting up, burrowed deep in his vein and clogged. Loki couldn’t will any more than a spark, and even that was with much coaxing in his part. He suspected the mix of being out of reach from the branches of the tree of life, Yggdrasil, and the voices in his night terror might be the reason his magic was being uncooperative. 

Loki willed his __Seidr__  again and a spark illuminated enough in his palm not to trip over his feet. He flipped open a cabinet, get disappointed for a brief second by the random items in them and proceeded to a next one, rinse and repeat. He kept on until he covered most of the shelter. His magic failed him twice more throughout his search, but he still hadn’t found even a drop of liquid. He contemplated intruding into Stark’s work area. Although the naked wiring running around and over the table looked a little too delicate to be jostled around.

He knew it wasn’t wise to invite any more ire with how short the fuse of Stark’s temper had gotten since the last time Loki saw him. But, in the end, Loki ruled out his continued existence could handle a temper tantrum he would get if Stark noticed – which on its own is brilliant, Loki only need to make sure Stark didn’t notice. He took a step towards the worktable, his boot crunching under his weight and—

“That’s not a good idea,” Nebula said, her voice scratchy from sleep. She rose from her side in the bed and quirked an eye that bring out a sheepishness of Loki.

“Do you have drinkable water here?” Loki glanced around, and his eyes returned to Nebula.

Nebula shook her head, looking almost sorry and Loki felt her genuine sentiment and concern. She knew he isn’t predisposed towards heat and dehydration due to his nature through their brief shared past. Loki scratched his throat mindlessly, the dryness in them itched.

“The water ration is toxic for Stark, and I don’t need water as much as sustenance after all these,” she gestured generally to all of her, the implants strikingly metallic against her blue complexion. “We dumped it into the shelter’s cooler and made some space.”

Loki nodded slowly, understanding. It is to be expected. It wasn’t like they had any idea to prepare for company that fell from the sky and needed hydration. There wasn’t much choice, Loki thought, and he leveled his arm to his eyes. Nebula was staring openly, although she was quiet in her suspicion and some sense of gratitude washed over Loki for the Luphomoid. He didn’t want to explain a thing.

A second swelled heavily in the silence, it stretched almost to infinity for Loki, before rich opal blue spread from the tip of his finger. The coloration circled his wrist and meshed with the pale of his Asgardian glamour. Layers of frost began to form, and Loki sighed shakily. The sensation still fairly new and foreign. It is close to natural as breathing and didn’t cost an inch from his depleting reserve of Seidr.

Loki stretched his fingers and the frost grew into a stretch of ice. “Nebula,” he called while marveling over his hand. “Do we have a pitcher of some sort?”

“I think I saw something of the sorts,” Nebula grumbled and get off the bed, rummaging around with a mouthful of curses when she found none. Loki couldn’t catch the bulk of it but it’s probably nothing he had never heard before.

She returned with a large, faded gray pitcher and handed the pitcher while keeping a wide berth between them. Loki murmured a thanks, distracted with a sense of foreboding at the blue of his skin and the stark of his markings, a richer blue. He would find himself beautiful if not for the seed of hatred long planted by his so-called family. Not like there were any of them left if the scene in Hel before he left was anything to go by.

“Need any help?” Nebula cut through his pity party before it could even begin. He pursed a little at the missed opportunity.

Loki cleared his throat and shook his head. He put on his best reassuring smile and let his hand hover atop the opening of the pitcher. There was a stale moment of silence for the realization to all but sink in between the god and the assassin; he has no clue about the workings of a __Jotunn__ ’s biology.

“You absolutely has no idea, don’t you?” Nebula inquired, staring at Loki’s frosted-over hand.

He scoffed, rolling his eyes in a wordless ‘Duh!’ and tried wiggling his hand. Awkwardly, dare he say, the ice remained coating his finger and growing out like claws. “Alright, yeah, I don’t. But, I’m open for ideas at the moment.”

In character to her reputation, Nebula flicked her arm down and her baton unfolded with an ominous snap. Loki held himself not to jolt in surprise. He stared, eyes flicking back and forth between her and the baton. The assassin was absolutely ready to break his hand for this.

“Hold your hand out away from you,” she warned.

“I’m sure that’s not necessary,” he harried. Nebula seems to really set her eyes on his frozen over hand, following when he shifted to hide his hand. Loki shook his hand in one last attempt over the mouth of the pitcher. __Come on__ , he gritted and tried to push the words into intent and fed it to the burning cold of his core. Nebula swung his baton down. The air parted with a clicking rush, loud in Loki’s ears and he wriggled his hand frantically.

By a fraction of his bated breath and just in time; __plonk__ , the ice cracked neatly around his wrist and fell into the pitcher. The baton stopped by a hair’s width from the back of Loki’s hand. And Nebula stepped back, twirling the baton back into half its length and sheathing it away. She looked mighty pleased with herself.

“I knew you’ll work better with a little motivation,” she said.

“I don’t know much about Thanos’ parenting skill but from where I came that’s a threat.” It’s a low blow. Loki knew it as soon as the words rushed out of him. He winces inward. He might be Asgardian — Jotunn, the voice at the back of his head stand corrected — but, Nebula could still pack a punch and having to worry over a broken hand was low on his list of priorities.

“The years away has made you soft, Loki,” she replied easily. 

 _ _Huh__ , Loki thought, __apparently he isn’t the only one gone soft__. He let ice froze over his fingers and repeated the process with minimal struggle this time around. 

“Indeed, these years fate has been kinder to me like it never had before. I guess it made me lower my defense. He came for me, Nebula, for my brother, for my people. He came to make true of his promise.” Loki was filling up the pitcher quicker when he got the hang of intent and his core, liquid frost like a glacier storm. It’s a curious thing to feel so clearly, Asgardian magic isn’t running in his vein.

“Did he,” Nebula stopped, unable to mutter the sentiment out loud. Not when the sentiment was as much Thanos’ as it was hers before. As it was Loki’s, as well. They shared this ugly burden of guilt weighing their conscience because Loki is never good; Loki is mischief and chaos.

“He did.” The anxiety caught up at his throat, swelling thickly and cloying that he has to stop. He pushed the pitcher aside, full to the brim with gradually melting ices. Nebula swapped the pitcher with another empty one, letting Loki centers his fluctuating core again before he continues. She set the first pitcher on top of a generator, friction warmth from the innards of the running machination hastening the process.

“I,” Loki paused and weighed in his words. Will Nebula took this and use it against him? No, not about this. She always will be someone who tries to win an upper hand with threats and dirty secrets. It’s her trade. But, not about this or so Loki hopes. “I don’t think anybody got out, Nebula. I may not even know if Thor made it out.”

“My condolences,” she exhaled and their shared experience resonated. Loki felt it in the air, an estranged comfort and he let it soaked his bone. Thanos might have stripped Nebula of her family, of her origin, of her nature and skin, and replaced it with sleek metal to efficiently serve him, but she never stopped missing those she lost. Loki could see it clearly in her whimsical, faraway gaze darted to the floor.

“He had me, and made Gamora look while he tore apart the limbs he gave me. I didn’t mind if I died but Gamora did mind so, she gave in. He took Gamora with him, for the soul stone. I didn’t manage to stop him in time and when I caught up to him, she wasn’t with him anymore,” Nebula offered hesitantly. Guilt shadowed her, and Loki saw this and his anger grew. A blizzard of inferno, and the ice clinging to his skin sharpened in shape.

“He’ll pay. I don’t know what your plan with Stark but, we’ll get Thanos. One way or another. He’ll get what’s coming for him.” Nebula laughed a little, her back straightened like an image of Asgardian warrior and Loki noticed something he missed at his arrival.

He, surprisingly, he was okay with it.

She wasn’t Thanos’ assassin, not anymore. And Hela had seen it fit to place him in Nebula’s path, and perhaps Stark as well, to pull the universe back in its course. There was a meaning to all these. Underhanded as the Norn could be, and Loki may loath them at times, but they weren’t stupid.

Loki nudged the filled up pitcher towards Nebula and she swapped it wordlessly. They worked through the morning until Loki overworked his skin. His hand blistered in some places and chaffed red in others but, they managed to have up to three days worth of clean water. A week if they’re frugal with it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been so long, but here's an update. _Finally._  
> 
> My life was a flurry of final exams, moving into a new apartment, getting into a car accident and taking my time to recover. But, don't worry. I'm not planning to abandon this baby fic anytime soon. On the other hand, I'm working on a Tony!Revengers AU as well right now so, the next update may be slower than expected. Anywho! I hope you enjoyed Loki and Nebula's interaction as much as I do. 
> 
> Comments and kudos will be much appreciated!


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